


Curse-Breaker: The Heir of Hogwarts

by CMZ12268



Series: Curse-Breaker [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Exploration, Mystery, Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Pre-Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Puzzles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-27 18:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30126867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CMZ12268/pseuds/CMZ12268
Summary: Upon recieving a peculiar birthday gift, a series a strange events culminate with muggle-born Carlos Martin Edward being invited to enroll at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Said gift, however, opens the door to several hidden secrets within the castle that may indicate there's a lot more to the past of the school, as well as his own, than he and others may think. Should he choose to dwell on that past, he'll have to race against those who seek it with questionable motives.
Series: Curse-Breaker [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2217213
Kudos: 1





	Curse-Breaker: The Heir of Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, Welcome to my very first Harry Potter fanfiction!
> 
> While it's not my first time writing, I've only now gathered the proper courage (and procrastination hours) to work on this idea I've had for a long time. I don't know how far it'll go, but if this first chapter ever sees daylight, it's already a small win for me.
> 
> Now heed my disclaimer:
> 
> This is a self-insert. Yes, this is a genuine attempt at a serious fic. Yes, I'm aware that SI's usually suck, and people dislike them for very good reasons. Yes, I intend to do my best to avoid these reasons.
> 
> And… yes, Harry Potter and all of the Wizarding World unfortunately belong to the TERF-Whom-We-Shall-Not-Name.
> 
> My hope is to not get too caught up in perfectionism or burnout and to allow myself to tell the story I want to, even if sacrificing a bit of consistency at times. I hope I can eventually captivate some of you with what I have to say.
> 
> P.S.: English ain't my first language and my reading habits are pathetic, so... bear with me here!
> 
> Without further ado, here's the first chapter.

* * *

**Awakening**

* * *

Before all else, there was darkness. Elsewhere, a meeting happened. Voices whispered amongst themselves, concerned.

The book was locked beyond reach, yet within sight. I knew, however, that it was about to be violated.

Before I could protest, A piercing pain ripped through my chest like a sharp nail, over and over again. My stomach then sank as I realised what I'd just witnessed.

They’re now coming.

* * *

_ "... After the conclusion of this league's season, local teams now switch their focus to the 2009 city championship. While most are looking to resume training routines by tomorrow, the 7th of April, a few teams have chosen to begin as early as this afternoon, despite the rainy weather. Onto the forecast now, we currently have overcast skies with temperatures around 17° Celsius, set to drop slightly into the evening alongside some more mild precipitation…" _

I quietly gazed out the dripping backseat car window on the way to my uncle’s, my school bag sitting beside me like a child of my own. Opposite to me sat my brother, also in school uniform, listening to what I assumed was some new fancy audiobook on his earbuds. I'd take a safe guess that his disciplined, studious self was likely already planning his study schedule for the remainder of the week or something, all the while I silently dreaded tonight’s homework. Our parents occasionally engaged in small talk or commented on what came on the radio - usually to complain about the state of the world - to which I didn't pay much mind. Eventually, mum turned her head to us and decided to break the silence.

"So how was school today, sweetie?" She asked me… probably. I was the one without earbuds, so I took it that she meant it for me.

“Oh, it was… okay." I uncreatively responded.

"Do you think there’ll be anything special tomorrow?" She proposed. I frowned.

"Not really… why would I think that?"

"Oh, didn't you tell anyone at school it's your birthday?" Her small eyes now looked at me through the rearview mirror.

"Um… no, I haven't." I muttered under my breath, a little ashamed.

"Why not, hun? It's your eleventh birthday, you should let your classmates celebrate!" She cheered. I shuddered at the thought of announcing my birthday to the class like some senseless clown. I'd be hastily scorned out of the room by everyone, and rightfully so.

"I mean I told, like, one or two people, that's all" I explained rather uncomfortably. "I don't really want the attention, it's just one more day of school."

"Still, it's nice to get some more birthday wishes."

"Yeah, I guess…” I said under my breath.

Needless to say, I'm not all too thrilled about birthdays… or at least not my own. I mostly enjoyed it when I’d get to go to parties and indulge in ridiculous amounts of sweets, soda and cake… unless it was fruit cake. Those things should be banished.

Soon enough we pulled over by Uncle William's house, a humble single-story home in West End, which stood out from the others with its many rescued bird cages that populated the driveway. I'd only been there a couple of times in the months since he moved in, when there were still a few piles of construction material lying around. I let mum, dad and brother go ahead to ring the doorbell to make the proper greetings. Aunt Valery was the one to get the door and invite us in, amidst frantic flapping and metal shaking noises.

"Winston, Maria, welcome! How nice it is to see you. Oh, Hello you too, boys! Do come in, please!" She cheerfully invited, smiling through her strong red lipstick like the sweetheart she's always been to us.

Right behind her was Uncle William's tall figure, with his tucked in polo shirt, strong jaw and pushed back black topknot. He's always looked younger and in better overall shape than my dad, and with a lot more hair as well, despite being the older sibling. "It's work related stress" mum would say when addressing dad's gradual hair loss. I'm not sure I believe her.

"Happy birthday there, Carlos!" He cheerfully greeted me, with his trademark side-smirk.

"Hey, uncle William…! it’s not my birthday yet, actually..." He extended his hand my way to perform our awkward signature fistbump. I won't attempt to describe what that looked like, it's beyond embarrassing. I took it from a TV show when I was about eight years old, and it just happened to stick with him, of all people. I'm pretty sure I'm still the only one who knows this.

"Oh It’s close enough though, isn't it? Came straight from school?" He asked, noticing my uniform. I awkwardly nodded, forcing a smile to dodge the topic. Thankfully he returned the smile and switched his focus to my parents, otherwise I’d have to ‘fine’ through several questions regarding my school life.

Soon enough, everybody in the room had settled and engaged in day-to-day conversation. Mum, Dad and Aunt Valery would sit around the TV and chat about many frivolous topics while my brother and Uncle William stayed in their own bubble, talking about the mysteries of life and the universe… or whatever else smart people talk about amongst themselves. While they delved into their thrilling discussions, I mostly just sat quietly in one corner of the living room, occasionally zoning out by focusing on Keke, one of uncle’s cats. It took me some real effort to resist the urges to pester them and get clawed, something mum would vocally disapprove of.

“So Junior, how's it looking for college? know what you'll be doing in university yet?” I hear Uncle ask my brother.

“Probably law.” He confidently responded, “I've been studying the examination process and looking into the best institutions to apply to, like Imperial, UCL… though I've had my eye on Cambridge and Manchester too."

"Oh please honey, don't!" Mum chimed in "London is already far enough, we don't want you to stray too far home."

"Oh mum, you need to get over this." He said with an eye roll "You know I plan on doing foreign exchange once I'm in uni. What are you gonna do then?"

"I'm not letting you go, that's what I'll do." She jokingly said, knowing very well that she'd never actually do such a thing no matter how much she'd want him to stay. This wasn’t the first nor the last time we would see her lament any of us doing anything that involved going away from home.

"And what of you, Carlos? Are you going to university?" My uncle then turned to me.

I quit breathing for a moment as all the attention in the room suddenly turned to me, the boy sat in a lonely pouffe, occasionally poking a very annoyed tabby cat.

"Um… yeah, I think?" I awkwardly responded. What the hell kind of question was that, like I'd know anything about university at this age?

"Last we’ve heard, he was thinking of doing architecture." Dad suggested.

Was I now?

"He's always been into drawing, so I think that'd be quite his alley." Mum agreed.

That's, uh… a bit of a leap, isn't it?

"Now that's quite interesting!" Uncle said joyfully "So you like the idea of building spaces, I take it?"

"Oh, he very much does. That's what he does every day after school in that building video game of his with all of those weird puppets… what's it called again?" Mum snapped her fingers repeatedly as she struggled to remember. I withered at her mentioning it.

"Yes, all the while avoiding his schoolwork." Dad sternly responded, in his tone of authority "I better not see you turn on that computer before your homework is done today, understood?"

I sunk as that uncalled wave of shame hit me. Whatever spark of mood I had before surely died then.

They carried on with their usual conversation after that, leaving me to shame on that pouffe facing all of them. Even Keke the cat had walked away by that point. After a few more moments of their mindless chatter and my lonely sulking, I started looking for an excuse to get up, use my legs and… not be there.

"Um, hey Uncle William…" I sheepishly spoke "Do you know where the other cat is?"

"Ah, you mean Mel?" He answered "She runs into the clutter room every time we have guests. I can fetch her if you'd like-"

"Oh no, no need for that!" I quickly turned down his offer "I don't mean to have you drag her here, I just wanted to know if I could see her…"

"Well, you could try finding her. It's the second door to the right, facing our bedroom." he pointed to the small hallway leading to the rest of the house.

"Okay, thanks!"

"You better not try holding it, I don't want to be washing cat hair off your school uniform!" Mum complained as I left the room.   
  
“Geez mum, it’s not like he’s gonna rub himself against the thing.” My brother protested.

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on it.” She said, exasperated. 

I stiffly walked to the end of the corridor, peering behind me to see if anybody followed. I heard them resuming the conversation in the living room and loosened up a bit once I was no longer being watched. The door to the clutter room was left ajar, casting a streak of hallway light into the darkness inside.

I gently pushed the door open, letting light into the darkness mostly filled with the silhouettes of old cloth-covered furniture and stacked boxes, probably leftovers from the moving. It had that characteristic dusty smell rooms filled with old, stagnant furniture usually have. I wasn't really hoping to locate the kitten hidden in that mess, but at least I'd get to be alone and peek around for a while. After carefully closing the door behind me, I flip the light switch and immediately recognise some of the items.

The first to catch my eye was Uncle William's old single bed from when he lived in Grandma's apartment, now with several pieces of random clutter on top of it. I recognised it by the thin, polished dark wood bed frame, the only thing missing being the woolly teal bed covers it used to have. A few boxes away was an old white office desk with curved black sidings and keyboard roller-tray, with uncle's old computer resting on top of it. Yes, that kind of old, cube beige monitor with a matching CPU casing, clunky keyboard, mouse and speakers.

I remembered the many nights my brother and I would be eager to visit my uncle and grandmother specifically so we could play on his computer and have access to the internet. That, of course, when we weren't busy bickering over whose turn it was. Back then uncle would give us these gaming magazine CD-ROMs filled with simple games, the kind that would entertain me for months with a simple platformer or Arkanoid rip-off. I'm pretty sure the machine still had Windows XP installed with the default background.

Looking around a little more, partially boxed in a little corner was also uncle's old black tube TV that used to be wall-mounted above his desk. That reminded me of just how obsessed I was with cable TV for a while, to the point where I’d make it a hobby of mine to search and list every new TV channel I ever discovered. I'd always be so jealous of how Uncle William had access to more cable channels than we did at home, and would often turn the tv on to mindlessly watch the channels we didn't have, even though I was barely if at all interested in them.

It seemed that he always had the cool, exciting things we were into. He's always cherished us and never seemed bothered about how we - or perhaps I - were so focused on his stuff rather than… I don't know, what is it that families usually do? Spend time together?

Peeking into some more boxes I saw a whole bunch of electrical engineering books of his, along with piles upon piles of papers and files of who knows what. Both him and Dad stored an awful lot of paper from their jobs, all of which seemed to always be important. At least Uncle sometimes gave me some spare blocks of that odd continuous printing paper he got from his bank job for me to draw, which was nice.

Amidst these piles, I saw something slightly different…

An old book, sitting right out the top of one of the open boxes. Its detailed cover was definitely mesmerizing, yet unfamiliar to me. Looked straight out of an old library or something.

I try picking it up and am immediately taken aback by its weight and– ugh, the dust layer. I decided to give it a blow, which turned out to be a bad idea as the dust flew right into my mouth and glasses. I coughed and waved the cloud away before attempting to pick it up again.

It was definitely something I hadn't seen before. For starters, it was quite thick and looked somewhat weathered. The hardcover seemed to be a mix of fabric and leather in red and green adorned with golden threads. Several floral patterns filled the corners of the cover, each containing a circle with a unique symbol. In the middle was a diamond shape with a larger golden circle button sticking out. It contained some more symbols and shape details I couldn't quite make out, but it was very much intricate.

Upon opening the book, I saw… nothing. The front pages were just blank… in fact, all of them were. No traces of printing or handwriting of any sort, front to back. Suddenly, the idea of an empty book ready to be filled struck me as rather attractive. I don't know why I felt so eager to write something in that old book, what would I even say? No, it looked way too valuable for some random scribbles, which could be the reason it's remained untouched until now. Regardless, it was so tempting…

“Oh, what have you got there now?” I turn around with a gasp to see my uncle standing tall by the door, smirking at me as he caught me right in the act.

“AH, Uncle William…! I wasn’t gonna…”

"So I see you found my surprise for you." He said with a smile.

"... your what?" I took a moment to process what he’d just said.

"Happy Birthday!” He announced with a chuckle “I've been keeping this for a while, and I thought that it would make a great birthday present for you."

“You… you mean  _ this _ , right here?” I held the book to him, surprised. I won't lie, I don't know how or why I suddenly felt as excited for a present as I did for that empty old book, of all things. I mean, It was loads better than socks and the like, but still.

“That’s right. I suppose there’s more than enough paper in there for you to practice your sketching!”

"But… what exactly is this, Uncle William?" I asked. Indeed, I had no idea what that book actually was or what it was meant for.

"Just a blank old notebook, as far as I know." He explained. "It originally belonged to your grandfather, but it seems he never used it, oddly enough. It sat among his things for years since he passed until I found it, and your grandmother agreed I should pass it down to you."

"This was grandfather's…?" I reiterated, slightly puzzled. I’ve never met either of my grandfathers, both passed before I was born. "But why did he never use it?"

"I couldn't tell you. All I know is that he was an architect, and a remarkable one at that. He’d fill notebook after notebook with notes and sketches of his, always jotting down whatever came on his mind. This book, however, was the odd one out, despite him having it for a considerable time."

So grandpa was an architect. That seemed to make sense of why Mum and Dad were so eager to jump to the conclusion that I’d wanna be one just for drawing. Was this a family tradition or something? 

“Do you like it?” He eagerly asked.

“I- I mean, I think so, yeah? It’s... it’s quite amazing.” I stumbled upon my words. For some reason, I wasn’t able to promptly say that I liked it despite my interest. It’s not that I didn’t like it, it was just… very different for me. Granted, I always carried the guilt of having been gifted so many things by Uncle William and not appreciated some of them. From books I didn’t read to toys I played too little with, it’s like I never did them the justice they deserved. With every new present came a new fear that I might end up not enjoying it like my uncle would hope I did.

“So, did you find her?” He then asked.

“Wha- Who?”

“Mel, the cat.”

“Oh- No, I didn’t… Is she really-”

He kneeled into a corner and managed to retrieve the terrified cat from her hiding spot, in what appeared to be a tight gap between boxes. He then held the poor calico kitten close to me while she struggled against his grip.

“She’s very uneasy around visitors, you see.” He explained.

"Really… why is that?"

"I think she might have been abused or beaten when she was younger. She's now very wary of anybody she doesn't trust."

“Oh wow… I see.” I stretched my hand to slightly pet her head, causing her to sink on my uncle’s arms.

Eventually he decided to release her, to which she frantically rushed back into an obscure corner of the clutter room. Uncle had a laugh.

"If anything, she's found herself a comfortable spot here, away from everybody."

And suddenly, I envied the cat.

* * *

There was nothing I could do. Shreds of paper and leather were scattered all around it.

They were distraught. How could this have happened? The book always wrote itself, but this...

They thought it'd failed.

A name, however, carved deep and chaotically into its cover, drained the blood off their faces.

It was-

Lights flash over my eyes.

"Carlos, honey, wake up! you'll be late." A familiar, tired voice abruptly pulled me out of slumber "Breakfast is on the table".

I said nothing as my sandy eyes struggled to open, scorched by the brightness of my ceiling lamp. However early it was, it was still  _ too _ early for this. I slowly unpack myself from my bed sheet cocoon to notice the blurry figure of my mum, still in her light blue night robe, standing in my doorway waiting for me to show signs of life.

"What time is it…?" I mumbled with a faint voice.

"Almost six-thirty. Go on, get dressed!" she quietly rushed me.

"What…? How did I- did my brother not set his alarm clock last night?" I stutter, trying to make a proper sentence.

"You slept through his alarm, I too thought it odd." She responded "He's nearly finished downstairs, pick up the pace. You know how upset he gets when you stall."

"I know, I know, I'm going…" I groaned in sleep frustration.

That was strange. I never missed my brother's alarm before, it usually rang for the two of us on school days. Either way, I sat up in order to regain my senses (mostly my eyesight) before attempting to stand on my feet. Only upon turning off the light that so violently attacked my eyeballs was I able to get dressed.

I sigh as I finally manage to brush my dark hair into a somewhat presentable shape, staring at my baggy dead eyes under the scratched, dusty lenses of my glasses in the mirror.

Yeah, today's gonna be one of _those_ _days_.

I ventured downstairs to the predictable sound of mum's morning radio newscast. Upon sitting down for breakfast, lights still on awaiting proper sunrise, a cold hand sent chills down my neck as she smooched me on the cheek.

"Happy birthday, dear… have you not combed your hair today?" she criticized after the tenderness, now running her hand through my hair and messing a bit with my glasses. I groan, still too sluggish to think of a decent response. I guess a "Thank You" would've done the job, but the hair comment and touching kind of turned me off. Not long after that, Dad came in through the door, all dressed for work, and sat down by the table. I stared down at my food, quietly.

After a few moments of reading his newspaper and ignoring me, he decides to look my way and ask "I didn't see you do your homework last night like I told you to. Have you?"

"Yes, of course I have!" I lied with a chill down my neck.

"Good. I hope to not get any more teacher's warnings." He said while eyeing me suspiciously, as if he knew but chose not to let on.

Bloody hell, that was only one time!

"Oh honey, aren't you gonna wish him a happy birthday?" Mum called out amidst the tension.

He then shifted his frown to a pursed, fake smirk. "Happy birthday, son." he forcibly said.

I hummed in response, returning that same pursed yet tense smile.

Family time at its finest.

God, I have to finish that assignment before fifth period.

Upon stepping outside to enter the car, I see a lovely tabby cat sitting on the brick wall of our front garden facing the house, except it wasn't like other tabby cats I've seen before. It had some very noticeable square marks around its eyes, almost like it wore glass-

"OI! SHOO!" I flinch as Mum screams from behind me and stomps her feet to scare off the feline, who was not at all fazed.

"Mum!?? It's just a cat!" I pleaded to her, horrified.

"Bogus! These stray pests wander through all kinds of rubbish and carry diseases! Shoo, knock it off!" She stomped her feet harder.

Despite mum's aggressive gesture, the cat swiftly got off the wall and walked off without a care in the world. She then took a deep breath and turned to me.

“Okay dearie, have a great day at school!” She said with the flip of a switch, smooching me on the cheek. Nevermind me having just witnessed her being gratuitously hostile to a stray cat. "Don't forget to remind your classmates it’s your birthday!".

I just awkwardly nodded and got into the car, trying not to think of that cringeworthy idea. As we rolled off, I noticed that same cat was now sitting by the pavement, staring as the car left. I wonder if they belong to one of the neighbours.

Our usual route to school followed the main road, bounded by a dense row of trees on one side and a semi-open wooded area with an old spiky tree standing out on the other. That day, however, that main exit was blocked due to roadside work, so Dad had to take a detour through the inner winding neighbourhood streets, which took all the longer.

Great. Add that to me already being late.

Happy birthday to you, Carlos.

* * *

" _ Carlos! _ " Mum's voice echoes into my room, followed by her unique whistle she uses whenever she's summoning any of us.

" _ What is it? _ " I call back from bed, reluctant to interrupt my late afternoon nap… which had just been interrupted.

I hear her whistle again, finally deciding to unpack myself from the sheets and get up, groaning quietly.

"What are you doing up there, love?" My mum asked from the hall as I came down the stairs, still rubbing my eyes and dressed in pyjamas.

"Uh, just… getting a head start on today's homework." I lied… partially. I did start off a bit of an assignment before I began to doze off and accidentally slipped into bed, though I might have gotten carried away with doodling on the page margins as well.

"Alright then. Your dad and I are going to the grocery store, want anything?" She continued, obliviously.

"Um… not really, no… hey, where's WJ?" I asked referring to my brother, noticing he wasn't home.

"He's off to group study, so you're going to be alone here for a while." She explained.

"Oh, alright."

"In the meantime, If you're hungry you'll find some food leftovers tupperwares in the fridge, around the middle shelf…"

"Okay…"

"... and if you need anything, our phone numbers are in the sticky note on the side of the fridge, along with your uncle's and your grandmother's…"

"Got it…"

"... and in case of emergency, there's another note below with hotlines for police, fire and ambulance, and you can also go knocking on the neighbour's do-"

"Mum!" I called her out as she got carried away. "I got it! I'll be fine, I'll barely leave my room while you're gone."

"Promise you won't leave the house until we get back?"

"Leave the house? Where would I even-!"

" _ Promise?? _ " She pressed further with a more severe glance.

I sigh.

"Yeah, I promise." I said, rolling my eyes at the scenarios she proposed. She then kissed my cheek, as always, before leaving with my dad. Back upstairs at my room, I peek through the blinds to see mum, again, viciously shoo-ing off the stray cat from earlier that morning, to my unsurprising disappointment. With that, they finally drove off.

I sit back at my desk, staring at my unfinished homework and the assigned textbook paragraphs, waiting to be read amongst the many face and eyeball sketches that now littered every blank space. As I skimmed through the text, the tiny letters quickly jumped out of the page and danced around, making me see double despite my efforts to focus. Actually, picturing the letters dancing made me not pay any attention to what I was reading… as well as drool on the table by accident.

Nope, this isn't gonna work.

I looked around and saw uncle's gifted book on a corner of the desk, untouched. I opened it and stared at the blank pages, now without yesterday's excitement. What was I gonna do with it anyway? I didn't want it to just end up on a shelf like... everything else previously gifted to me. I figured if I were to use it at all, I could very well start off with some mindless sketching or something. I pressed the pencil against the paper only to have the tip immediately break under my grip.

"Not today" clearly said the universe.

I then just took off my glasses with a grunt and tried rubbing the heaviness off my eyes, with no luck. Closing the book, I laid my head on top of it with a yawn and shut my eyes. It was by no means a comfortable position, but enough for a little timeout.

A few moments of blissful silence later, a sudden sharp glass tap cut my breath in half. I nearly sprained my neck upon lifting my head up to look for the source, which seemed to be the window behind me. The tapping continued as I slowly walked up to the blinds, pulling them open to see...

… an owl?

A big, brown-and-white-ish owl sat by the window-sill, pecking at the glass like knocking at a door… which was inconveniently odd. I'd never even seen an owl up close before, let alone in broad daylight. It kept hammering its beak on the window pane insistently, like it was desperate for attention or something. For a moment I refrained from doing anything, as I didn't know what one should do when a random owl started knocking at their window. Actually, I knew nothing of owls, period. The bird then stopped and stared at me in what I  _ assumed _ was a moment of curiosity, twitching its head sideways.

I then gently knocked my fingernail on the glass, trying to get a reaction. Sure enough, the bird startled me  _ again _ by hitting the glass in response, and hard. I knocked back, now hoping to scare it off, but It just kept pecking on. Was it attempting to communicate with me or something? Because I wasn't about to decipher bird code.

"Hey! Go on, knock it off!" I tried waving it off, but the window pane was more than enough of a shield for the bird to not feel threatened. Another knock, another peck. I sighed and closed the blinds on the owl, hoping it would go away once ignored. I turn to walk away when, after only a couple of steps, I hear a blood chilling crack and freeze in my stance.

"Oh no."

I swish open the blinds to a major chill on my stomach. The bird managed to peck a crack on the glass.

"How did you-? How is this even possible?!" I babbled in shock. Now back at staring passively, the owl twitched its head again, looking all innocent as if to cover up its mischief.

"Ugh, what do you want? Why are you here?" I complain, impatiently. I tried to think of what could possibly be fetching that owl's attention to my window. "Is it food you want? I ain't got any… whatever it is that owls eat…"

The owl responded by making a faint chirp and hitting the glass again.

"Stop that! I can't let you in here, mum would kill me if you, uh… dropped any feathers!" I blurted out desperately.

The bird made a low chirp and side-eyed me.

"Don't look at me like that, you don't know what she's like!"

The owl chirped louder and leaned in closer to the glass.

"I said no! You can't come in here and that's final!" I ordered, holding my finger up with a frail authority voice.

The bird responded with a longer, fainter chirp and stared down.

Then it hit me.

"Wait…"

The bird suddenly lifted its head up again to face me, which freaked me out.

"You… understand me?" I asked, perplexed.

We stared at each other's eyes in a few moments of suspense. Then, the owl reverted back to woodpecker mode and started drumming on the glass again.

I felt stupid.

"Of course. What else did I expect?" I sighed and closed the blinds again, defeated.

Yet once more, not two steps away I heard a sudden noise, but this time it was an agitated rustle.

I lift the blinds open again to the owl now frantically flapping its wings on my window, like it's decided to throw a tantrum.

"W- What are you-?! Stop that! I already said I can't- Oka- OKAY FINE! Stop it, I'll open up, alright?!" I yelled over the noise.

The bird immediately stopped and chirped at me like it was nothing.

"Oh, now THAT you understand, huh?" I said, exasperated.

Reluctantly, I unlock and open the window slowly, regretting not having called mum and dad to save me from that feathered imp. It certainly wouldn't be any more pathetic than me at that moment, but by the time they got here there'd likely been a hole pecked at the window. As soon as it's open all the way, I take a long step back while locking my eyes on the owl that was now just... standing there.

"Now what?"

I let out an incoherent screech as that _bloody_ _demon_ lunged my way and above me after I ducked. I cowered into a little fearful ball in the corner and looked at the now menacingly imposing owl, standing at my desk right on top of my uncle's book. Yep, that's it. Bird just claimed my room. It's their domain now.

“Okay, you can have it. House is yours, please don't kill me!” I pathetically pleaded to the owl, who was just looking around the space it now rightfully owned. I then began silently praying to every known deity for that thing to just lose interest in me and go to terrorize its next victim. When I thought I'd already panicked enough, my blood froze when the owl reached for something on my table with its beak.

My glasses.

"Oh no, nonononono- okay… please put those down…  _ gently _ ... because they're  _ very _ expensive… and I need them..." I slowly whispered, steadily getting back on my feet in an attempt to get closer.

This time the owl wasted no time in deception and made me duck again as it flapped my way and out the window… with my glasses?!

I look outside to see the little bugger over by the front garden wall close to the square-eyed tabby cat, holding my glasses in its beak. With no second thought, I boost downstairs and swing the front door open, or at least I'd have done so had it not been locked. A few more incoherent groans later, I find a spare key and barge out the door, which proves to be a mistake as it causes the owl to fly away again.

I frantically chase it down the street, still in my pajamas, trying my best to not lose sight of it. If it flew past any of the rooftops I'd be helpless. I didn't know what I was expecting to accomplish by pursuing a creature that could fly, though I knew it'd eventually land somewhere… hopefully close. After what's likely the most excruciating race of my life, we finally reach the main road intersection, and the bird flies into the wooded field landing right on top of the old spiky tree.

My legs and lungs are nearly collapsing by the time I reach said tree, my heart pounding like it's about to burst out of my chest and my feet nearly combusting after furiously stomping my sandals on the tarmac. I panted viciously, struggling to catch my breath and looking up at the leaves to see if I could locate the bloody owl. That tree was  _ big _ . The sheer amount of thin spiky twigs, scattered spots of foliage plus my faulty eye focus were such that I couldn't make out any hidden figures for the life of me.

" _ Where… are you?! Give me my… glasses!! _ " I cry breathlessly, rounding up the tree with a 90 degree angle on my neck, now dripping in sweat. I try everything I can out of desperation, punching and kicking the bark, jumping to reach for the leaves, throwing sticks and stones at it. Perhaps climbing? No, not with these legs. Had I a chainsaw, I'd bring that whole tree down. The owl had to still be in there, I'd have seen if it left… right?

Eventually I became too exhausted to keep on jumping and tossing stuff like a lunatic. This whole thing was beyond humiliating, I just wanted my glasses. The fatigue sank in and I collapsed onto my knees on the grass, even though I knew I'd get my trackies dirty and full of insects, but I was too helpless to care. I was left to sob while carving my hands on the loamy ground and dragging earth in frustration, already thinking of all the trouble I would be in when explaining this to my parents. The frustration turned to rage and I pierced my fingers further into the ground and kept digging, who knows why, but I just kept doing it like it would somehow even the odds.

The leaves then began rustling loudly, soon followed by… wood cracking. The tree shadow shifted.

Immediately alarmed, I look up and frighten myself at the sight of the tree spikes now moving around increasingly faster, in a motion entirely opposite of the surrounding stillness of wind. Every twig seemed to have gained a life of its own, followed by their larger branches and even the trunk. A large heavy bundle of branches then began bending  _ my way. _

"LOOK OUT!" A voice shouts from behind me as I attempt to crawl away from the impending impact. Just before it became too late for me I heard a violent wood ripping noise, and the heavy spiked branch just snapped out of the tree and dropped like a weight just inches from my feet. After that, the tree movement began to cease.

I looked behind me and spotted the figure of a man standing by the kerb with a hand inside his cloak. He ran the field my way.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?!" He said with a shaken voice as he attempted to lift my dumbfounded self off the ground. He wore a very short dark haircut, a long brown cloak and wooly beige cardigan over an otherwise ordinary formal attire. He looked well groomed overall, contrary to my messy and oily black hair, teary red eyes and an old, second-day-in-a-row pajama shirt and trackie bottoms, now slightly dirty from the ground I kneeled on.

"I- I don't- the glasses!" I blurted out amidst the chaos of sentences I wanted to formulate simultaneously.

"Glasses? What glasses?" He questioned adamantly.

"The owl… it t-took my glasses" I uttered, now beginning to shake myself. The man's eyes widened.

"Where is he? Where's the owl??" He questioned now looking deeply concerned. I just shyly pointed my trembling arm to the spiky tree.

The man's eyes immediately went from me to the tree as he promptly yelled "TREVOR!", which only further terrorized me.

Talk about terror, a now all-too-familiar chirp echoed from behind me and was followed by the flapping of wings of an owl, who spooked me  _ yet again _ as it flamboyantly landed on that man's arm, who sighed in relief.

And would you know it, it still had my bloody glasses!

"Are these yours?" He asked, taking the glasses from the birds beak.

"YES!" I immediately sputtered, a little louder than I had anticipated. "Yes please, they're mine! I need them!"

"Alright alright, here you go!" He promptly handed them back to me after my insistence. "You might wanna do something about that lens, though…"

My stomach sank as I noticed a major crack in one of the lenses. Within seconds I was already hyperventilating over the prospect of having to explain that to my parents.

"Hey hey hey, it's alright!" He said as he likely noticed I was about to wail "Here, let me fix that for you."

The owl jumped to his shoulder as he took the glasses off my hands and proceeded to rub both lenses with his thumb before handing it back to me. "There you go!"

I took the glasses and immediately assessed their current state. To my bewildering surprise, both lenses were… pristine. Not only the crack was gone, but also every noticeable scratch or speck of dust had completely vanished. It was like I'd just bought them anew.

"How… how is this-"

"It's... complicated to explain." He said before I could properly ask, having his owl back at his arm. "Now, are you sure you're alright?" 

"I- I just… what- why did the owl steal my glasses?!" I inquired impulsively. The man gave me an astonished look, probably not expecting me to take that route. Nevermind me also completely forgetting to say "Thank you" for the fixed lenses.

Priorities, I guess.

"I… was teaching him to fetch some twigs, he wasn't supposed to take anything else…" He awkwardly explained, seemingly embarrassed.

"My glasses aren't twigs…!" I protested before realising the obviousness of that statement, which raised him an eyebrow. Only after putting them back on did I think of addressing the big elephant in the room. "That tree… it just-"

"I know." The man responded. "I saw it. I just don't really know what to tell you about that."

"But… but how did that happen? I don't get-"

"Like I said, it's complicated." He cut me off again. "Listen, I know that you're really scared after what you've seen, but you can't tell anybody of what happened here today."

Ironically enough, it hadn't crossed my mind to do so until he mentioned it. Initially, however, I was very much looking to avoid ever talking about "the time an owl stole my glasses" before it became "the time a tree came to life and apparently tried to crush me". What, was I supposed to pretend that didn't just happen?

"But… but I'll have to-" I tried to argue.

"Believe me, it'll be way easier if you don't." He insisted. "I can't really answer any of your questions right now, but I promise you that soon enough you'll know everything, alright?"

I didn't say anything. There's only so much confusion I could process at once. Why was he trying to appease me, anyway? Who was that man?

"Now, please go back to your house and stay there, alright?" He instructed. "Don't worry about what happened here, it'll be taken care of. Just go home and settle for the day!"

At that point, I was freaked out enough to just nod and excuse myself from him and that place. I glanced back a few times to see the man stepping closer to the tree, causing me to nearly bump into the square-eyed tabby cat by the road in the process. I hadn't noticed it followed me all the way there.

After that, I ran home.

* * *

The more I think about what happened, the less sense everything makes.

I was sure it all had been real up until the very next day, when we drove by that field again and I failed to spot the old spiky tree. Just like that, it vanished entirely. From then on I seriously began questioning everything I thought I remembered about that day, as well as my overall sanity.

Despite this, however, the reminders left by the incident were still very much present. From my cracked window pane (Had to tell mum and dad it was hit by a rogue bird, which was  _ technically _ true) to my now pristine glasses, there was no denying to myself that something took place.

Still, it bothered me every now and again no matter how much I rationalised it. The worst part is not being able to tell anyone. I was already reluctant given the absurdity of what happened, but now I had absolutely no proof it ever did.

In the end, real life wasn't allowing me to dwell in this as much as I could. School was still a thing, and not getting any easier as my assignments began to pile up.

I woke up all sweaty under my blankets, right after another instance of those sanity-consuming nightmares. Thankfully, barely any of it made its way to consciousness this time, but it still took me a few moments to convince myself that real life was from here on forth.

I unceremoniously got on my feet and went downstairs, looking as ungroomed as ever, headed to the kitchen. Passing by the front door, however, I hear something slip through the mail slot.

I looked towards the door and noticed a single letter lying on the doormat. Curious, I picked it up and inspected it. The envelope was rather heavy, of a yellow-ish type of paper and sealed with a type of red wax. It didn't have any stamps, only an imprinted… what is it called, a coat of arms? It had a big letter "H" inside. I flipped it around to see something written in emerald green-

Oh… my god.

_ Mr. C. M. Edward _

_ The Left Bedroom facing the Front Garden _

_ 42 Guildford Drive _

_ Eastleigh _

_ Hampshire _

That… was way too specific??

How did they know that?!

_ Why _ did they know that?

I immediately open the door to try and locate whoever delivered it.

Not a single soul in sight, just the same tabby cat that had now made a habit of sitting on the front garden wall for a few hours every day, to mum's dismay.

I slowly shut the door with a now unsettling feeling in my stomach. That was no way to start off the day, getting the spooks like that.

My ears then ring with mum's whistle.

"Carlos! it's half past noon, get up!" She calls.

I realised I'd have to do something about that letter. Whoever sent it knew an awful lot about where in the house I lived, what else did they know?

I went to the kitchen, where dad was reading his newspaper while mum worked on the lunch dishes to the sound of the radio.

"Finally he is up and about!" she commented as I walked in "hopefully you'll be having lunch by dinner time today!"

Yeah, good day to you too, mum.

I sat down by the table next to dad and stared at the letter.

"Um, hey dad, is there Post on Sundays?" I sheepishly asked.

"No, why?" He dryly responded without even looking away from his paper.

"Well… I sort of just found this letter on the mat, it's addressed to me." I held the letter up to him.

He took a quick glance away from his paper to see the letter, yet not caring enough to actually look at the worrisome details.

"Leave it on the sideboard and we'll read it later." He instructed dismissively. As disturbed as I really felt, I didn't want to start up a scene by voicing my true concerns, so I did as I was told in hopes they'd eventually figure out what to do with it. After that, I poured myself a mug of milk and a piece of toast, trying not to worry further.

"Your Uncle is coming to visit later today." My dad eventually announced as I munched.

"Oh, that's nice, I guess..." I mumbled mindlessly "When is that?"

"In about an hour."

I nearly choked on my milk.

"I'm sorry- an hour??" I repeated in a cough, cleaning the milk dripping off my mouth.

"Yes. You'd have known this sooner had you been up earlier." he reprimanded, peeking over his newspaper to stare me down in my rumpled old pajamas. "You better dress up."

Oh bloody hell, I'm always the last to know stuff. As if I didn't have enough homework to get through, I now needed to give myself a makeover in the short time I had before Uncle William got here.

And yeah, I absolutely  _ reeked _ .

I quickly downed the weakest of breakfasts and boosted upstairs to get myself in a somewhat presentable state. After a quick bath (or the quickest I could make it), I slide onto some half-decent clothing and try to dry my hair just enough that it neither looks like it's been through a waterfall nor like it's become a bird colony.

A quick glance at the chaotic state of my desk reminded me of something I had actually forgotten. I quit fighting with the hair brush to dig up through the stationery mess of school books, loose sketches and papers to locate my uncle's book, for I had yet to jot down a single line on it. Yeah, it'd only been a week, but I didn't wanna seem like I didn't appreciate the gift and just tossed it somewhere, in case he asked.

I couldn't see the time but I was sure he would arrive at any minute now, so no time for fancy stuff. Sharp pencil in hand, I laid the book open and faced the aged emptiness of the old pages, ready to finally claim them… but with what?

Okay Carlos, don't overcomplicate this. Just… start with something simple.

Alright then, simple it is.

…

Anytime now...

…

Like, really, anything at all.

…

No, seriously, do something already!

…

Ugh.

Out of patience, I scribble incoherently on the paper and toss my pencil to the side, only to loudly gasp upon accidentally knocking my hand on the indian ink flask and have it spill across the page.

_ "Goddamnit!!" _ I grouched incredulously, trying to contain the spill and getting my fingers smeared with black ink in the process. Things went from bad to worse as I attempted to move other items and papers away only to smear them along with the book, all the while doing my best to make sure I didn't stain my clothes.

Bloody hell, this is a bloody nightmare. I just wanted to draw on this bloody book, and yet I managed to go and make this bloody mess just before my-

Wait a sec-

The ink smudge is… shrinking?

Right before my eyes, the ink spilled onto the page began to disappear like it was being quickly absorbed by it. Bewildered, I quickly skimmed through the book to see where all that ink was going, but… it went nowhere. Pages were as blank as I found them.

Back at that initial page, I rubbed my ink smeared thumb on the page to see what happened. As soon as I released the pressure off my finger, the ink trail left by it began to fade just as I’d previously noticed. It wasn’t instantaneous, either, as I made sure to very slowly brush it on the page. Just like before, that ink disappeared entirely.

I then heard the doorbell.

My heart and head raced as I tried figuring out what to do. I excused my dirty hands to pick up an old, thin paint-brush amidst the mess and dipped it in ink. I swabbed it upon the book on a jagged line, only to see it all fade away as soon as the brush left the paper. I dipped the brush again, but this time I tried writing an actual word on it.

“Hello” I wrote to the best of my ability, given a paint-brush is nowhere as stable as a pen or pencil.

Yet, the word did not disappear… not this time.

Actually, to my astonishment, more began to form below.

_ "Greetings…” _

I then impulsively closed the book as dad barged in through my door.

“You need to come downstairs. Now!” He said with a gritty tone, enough to make my soul want to leave my body.

"Okay, okay, I’m coming I swear!” I blurted out in a panic, hoping he would leave before he noticed the mess I made.

He glared at me angrily as he left my door ajar, to my utter confusion. What did I do this time? It’s not like I was terribly late to see my uncle.

I opened the book again to confirm what I had just witnessed, but by then it was all gone. I helplessly flipped through the pages after vestige that those writings were ever there in the first place. There was not a trace left, just like before.

I didn’t know what to think. By then, I was in too much of a hurry to further look into it, so I just closed the book and rushed to the bathroom to scrub every trace of ink I could out of my hands, hoping to god I had enough time to do so before I further enraged my dad. I then stumbled down the stairs while frantically drying my hands on my trousers.

"Excuse me, sorry for taking a little longer than - usual…" I choked on my words upon facing the doorway.

Instead of my uncle, standing by the entrance were  _ that cloaked man  _ from the tree incident and an older lady beside him, wearing emerald green robes and her hair in a tight bun.

Mom and dad looked at me concerned. The man raised his eyebrows at me.

"Good afternoon, I am Professor Neville Longbottom, and this is Headmistress McGonnagal. We would like to have a talk with you alongside your parents, if that's alright."

**Author's Note:**

> I… I think I did it.
> 
> I finished this first chapter.
> 
> After months of planning, writing and rewriting, I finally made it (even though it doesn't make all that much sense, given this isn't outstanding in any aspect). I hope I didn't forget anything.
> 
> It's such a relief to finally publish this after sitting on it for so long. There is still a long way to go, several things that I've yet to figure out and others that I'm dying to tell the world, but to finally put it out there is such a weight lifted off my shoulders. I hope this isn't where it stops.
> 
> Thank you times a million for reading this far. If you enjoyed what you saw here, please, make sure to leave a like/kudos/whatever endorsement button ya got, and comment your thoughts about it because I could really do with some positive reinforcement lol. Constructive criticism is certainly encouraged, I'm nothing close to a prolific writer and I hope to not come off as too pretentious or arrogant.
> 
> I don't know when I'll get chapter 2 done, but it shouldn't take as long as this one took to make. I hope to not keep you waiting.


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